


red bicycles

by akire_yta



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in eighteen minutes, no beta handy, all mistakes mine.  Immediately after The Doctor Dances:</p>
            </blockquote>





	red bicycles

_“Red bicycle when you were twelve.”_

He had no idea why he said that. The words just…popped out.

But he had said it, and now he was here. Rose was still fast asleep, a mop of blonde hair poking out from under her covers. Hanging from a barrage balloon and dancing with time agents obviously had taken it out of her.

He had watched her on the monitor in the control room with only a slight twinge of guilt for invading her privacy. But he had to make sure the rematerialization hadn’t woken her. He needed to make sure no one knew…

“Hey Doctor!”

“Argh!”

“Argh!” Jack mimicked cheerfully. “What’s up, Doc?”

The Doctor took a deep, steadying breath. “Firstly, it’s not ‘Doc.’ And secondly, none of your damn business.”

Jack looked unruffled. “Are landings always that rough?” He looked over at the console and saw Rose’s sleeping image. His grin grew. “Or was that meant to be her morning wake up call? Making the ground move for her…”

The Doctor slapped off the monitor. “Haven’t you got some preening to do or something?”

“I just thought you might want some help – volunteer my services, earn my keep, that sort of thing.” He inspected his nails with feigned casualness. “Or, I could go see if Rose wants company, breakfast in bed or something else.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Help.” He stopped, looked Jack up and down. He had shed the trappings of a British officer, but was still wearing his basic khaki fatigues. “At least green is the traditional colour. Pity about the ears. Well, come on.”

An hour later, the Doctor understood why Jackie had never tried to give Rose a bike for Christmas before. Even the two of them, both possessing minds capable of thinking in sixteen dimensions, were struggling to figure out how to get the bike around a corner that was half a foot too short.

Finally, Jack gave a little yell of frustration. “That is IT! Stand back, Doctor.”

A flash of squarish blue light and the bike was gone. “What did you do that for?” he demanded indignantly.

Jack tapped his gun and looked smug. “Its patterns are locked in here. We can rematerialize it once we get to her flat.”

It was a good idea all round – except for the bit where Jack had thought of it first. “You did recharge that bloody thing, I hope,” he grumbled as he led the way up the stairs.

Jack followed closely behind, a sly grin on his face. “Always, Doctor, always.”

The pushed out through the vandalized door and onto the balcony walkway. “You know, Freud would have a thing or two to say about your obsession with that thing.”

Jack stroked it suggestively. “Oh, he did.”

The Doctor was saved from having to answer by their arrival at the right flat. Pressing his finger to his lips for silence, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver. Two seconds later, they were inside.

A glance at the post piled on the hall table proved they were in the right flat. The Doctor waved Jack to get on with it.

The hum and flash of the sonic disruptor in reverse was loud in the sleeping flat. The Doctor winced as the blue light faded. Waving Jack imperiously for the open door, he stayed only long enough to tie the present tag around the handlebars.

The flat door sealed behind them with a click. Grinning like idiots, they made their escape. Five minutes later, a noise like an old car started echoed across the building.

By the time Christmas day dawned, they were years away.


End file.
